Beatrice Basler Strike The Blood Novels & Stories

Bella would probably tease me about crushing on a stranger already. By the time I packed up and headed back, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. NYC was still buzzing, but now it felt a tad overwhelming. I texted Bella: “Just got back from the park. Met a mysterious stranger—total movie moment! Drinks later?” Her reply was instant: “OMG yes! Spill everything!”

With my rage reaching a boiling point, I grabbed the pot on the stove and splashed the scalding cream on Joey and Anna. “I’ll kill you to avenge Jake!”

She starts toward the mess, probably planning to clean it up, and I want to tell her not to bother, want to tell her to just leave and take her stupid concern and her circadian rhythms with her. But then she kneels down next to the broken plate and reaches for one of the larger pieces of ceramic. Her hand slips. The edge of the shard catches her palm, cutting a line across it that immediately starts to bleed. She makes a small sound, barely more than a breath, and pulls her hand back. “Leave it,” I say, my voice coming out rougher. “It’s fine. I just need to—” “I said leave it.” She looks up at me, her hand pressed against her stomach now, trying to hide the cut even though I can already see

Alice stumbled through the gym’s side exit, the rally’s roar—blaring music, screaming crowds—fading to a dull hum as the courtyard’s cold night air slapped her face. The school’s open quad stretched before her, cracked concrete benches under flickering streetlamps, skeletal trees rustling in the wind, the distant thump of the pep rally echoing like a heartbeat. Her hands still glowed faintly from the gym’s ritual circle, her wrist scar burning, the crumpled notes (Break or burn, weapon) heavy in her pocket alongside the bedroom pendant. The vision of Samuel’s ritual—lights pulsing, packs clashing, blood pooling—clawed at her mind, alongside Liam’s plea, Kane’s fierce grip, Mira’s whispered t

And seeing the blood was making it more real. I didn’t want to hear it. And I didn’t want to see blood pooling on the floor—Dustin’s blood. “ Ahhh! I am going to kill you today! ” Beatrice shrieked, struggling to get away from Striker. He picked her up by her nape and threw her against the opposite wall. With an ear-piercing bang, Beatrice’s body first hit the wall and then the floor. She tried to claw her way up towards me but her eyes rolled back into her head the moment the crimson liquid started flooding out of her head.

Her hand was still in the air when I grabbed it. I shook her hand off forcefully, causing Beatrice to lose her balance and fall backwards. They were standing next to a rockery, and Beatrice was so scared that she grabbed at the air, but missed and hit her head on the rockery before sliding to the ground. I turned to leave, but heard Beatrice's panicked cry behind me, "Blood, blood, I'm bleeding.." I was shocked and quickly turned back to see Beatrice's palm covered in bright red blood. I hurriedly knelt down to help her.

"What in the..." Beatrice slammed into him, knocking him away from Emily. They tumbled across the stone, a tangle of red robes and black wings. "You..." Damon scrambled back, blasting a wave of green necrotic energy at her. "You are a leech? A blood-drinker? You are one of them?" Beatrice deflected the blast with a wing. The shadows coating her feathers absorbed the magic, sizzling. She slashed at him, her claws tearing through his velvet robes, drawing blood that floated in the strange gravity.

Blood began to soak her palm. "You disrespectful bitch!" Beatrice couldn't accept it. Despite the lingering dizziness, she tried to get up. "Oh! You dare to mess with me?!" Bella clenched her fists, glaring at Beatrice with sharp, disdainful eyes full of hatred. "Why should I be afraid?" Beatrice didn't flinch at all. She was actually waiting for this annoying woman who disturbed her sleep to come closer. "You damn slut!!!" Bella swiftly threw a powerful slap that landed on Beatrice's cheek. However, Beatrice promptly grabbed Bella's hand, tightly restraining it while the woman stared at her with intense hatred.

She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. “She looks like me,” Lillian said. Beatrice did not deny it. “She was my daughter,” Beatrice said. “And my greatest sorrow.” The words were spoken evenly, but Lillian heard the fracture beneath them. “I do not understand,” Lillian said. “Why show me this.” Beatrice turned to face her fully now. Her expression was gentle, but intent. “Because blood remembers,” Beatrice said. “Even when the mind refuses.” Lillian swallowed. Her throat felt tight, as if the air itself had thickened.

His voice was a low vibration that made the windows of the mansion shake, and he used his claws to rip the front of Jake's shirt into many small pieces. The two Alphas were so busy trying to kill each other that they not know Beatrice successfully make Giselle knock out in the room upstairs with a heavy piece of wood. Beatrice had sneaked into the house through a back window while the guards were busy fighting the Red Moon warriors at the gate. She looked down at the unconscious girl on the floor and she felt a surge of joy because she finally had the power to end the life of the woman she hated so much.